If Only It Was Known
by OhhPlease
Summary: Percy knew, he'd known for awhile... But when a fury which was his maths teacher attacked him... Well that's when he became far more deeply involved. Different!Percy


**Disclaimer: I do not own Percy Jackson or anything to do with it. This isn't at all for my person gain other than enjoyment of the series.**

**Summery: Percy knew for awhile, long before Grover reviled himself. Percy trained for this, studied for this... Had weapons other than riptide. How will this effect everything? Cause well... Knowing caused his personality to change too...**

**Author Note: Hey guys, let me know what you think with a review? Also there are a lot of things that are alluded too that will be farther explained as the story goes on. This will closely follow the original series especially for the first book, but as the series goes on it will branch off more and more.**

**Chapter One: ACCIDENTALLY VAPORIZE MY PRE-ALGEBRA TEACHER**

Look, I didn't want to be a half-blood….

If you're reading this because you think you might be one, my advice is: close this book right now. Believe what-ever lie your mom or dad told you about your birth, and try to lead a normal life.

My mother told me a story, a wonderful web of half truths and lies. I didn't get the chance to believe it, if I did maybe I would be happier then I am. Let's not dwell on what ifs though.

Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways.

Don't say I didn't warn you.

My name is Percy Jackson, son of Poseidon. Something that I found out years ago when I was in the shower and low and behold, I could freaking control the water. That's a story for another time however.

I'm twelve years old. Until a few months ago, I was a boarding student at Yancy Academy, a private school for troubled kids in upstate New York.

Am I a troubled kid?

Yeah. You could say that. I mean I was expecting monsters to come after me all the time, I even trained in secret for such an occasion. At times I was extremely paranoid… So maybe troubled was too light a word.

I could start at any point in my short miserable life to prove it, but things really started going bad last May, when our sixth-grade class took a field trip to Manhattan- twenty-eight mental-case kids and two teachers on a yellow school bus, heading to the Metropolitan Museum of Art to look at ancient Greek and Roman stuff.

I know-it sounds like torture. Most Yancy field trips were.

But Mr. Brunner, our Latin teacher, was leading this trip, so I had hopes.

Mr. Brunner was this middle-aged guy in a motorized wheelchair. He had thinning hair and a scruffy beard and a frayed tweed jacket, which always smelled like coffee. You wouldn't think he'd be cool, but he told stories and jokes and let us play games in class. He also had this awesome collection of Roman armor and weapons, so he was the only teacher whose class didn't put me to sleep.

I had my thoughts or rather, suspicions on the teacher. Something a bit different from anything that one without knowledge beyond the mist would thing… I didn't act on it though. For some reason I got the feeling that he wasn't there to hurt me.

I hoped the trip would be okay. At least, I hoped that for once I wouldn't get in trouble. I was sore from training myself the other night.

Boy, was I wrong.

See, bad things happen to me on field trips. Like at my fifth-grade school, when we went to the Saratoga battlefield, I had this accident with a Revolutionary War cannon. I wasn't aiming for the school bus, but of course I got expelled anyway. And before that, at my fourth-grade school, when we took a behind- the-scenes tour of the Marine World shark pool, I sort of hit the wrong lever on the catwalk and our class took an unplanned swim. And the time before that... Well, you get the idea.

This trip, I was determined to be good, or at least hope nothing bad happened.

All the way into the city, I put up with Nancy Bobofit, the freckly, redheaded kleptomaniac girl, hitting my best friend Grover in the back of the head with chunks of peanut butter-and-ketchup sandwich.

I'd entertained the idea she was a kid of Hermes, but not for long. Most of the god's children didn't look that ugly. I certainly didn't, in fact I am rather confident in my looks.

Grover was an easy target. He was scrawny. He cried when he got frustrated. He must've been held back several grades, because he was the only sixth grader with acne and the start of a wispy beard on his chin. On top of all that, he was crippled. He had a note excusing him from PE for the rest of his life because he had some kind of muscular disease in his legs. He walked funny, like every step hurt him, but don't let that fool you. You should've seen him run when it was enchilada day in the cafeteria.

Or at least that's what anyone else might think, again if they weren't aware. I got the feeling that he was with Mr. Banner, there for some reason to protect me perhaps. Grover wasn't human however, I was too paranoid to even think that for a moment.

Anyway, Nancy Bobofit was throwing wads of sandwich that stuck in his curly brown hair, and she knew I couldn't do anything back to her because I was already on probation. The headmaster had threatened me with death by in-school suspension if anything bad, embarrassing, or even mildly entertaining happened on this trip.

"I'm going to kill her," I mumbled, fussing with my hem of my leather jacket hoping to distract myself from getting up and killing the would-be-Hermes.

Grover tried to calm me down. "It's okay. I like peanut butter."

He dodged another piece of Nancy's lunch.

"That's it." I started to get up, but Grover pulled me back to my seat. I was thankful; it was hard to find a new school, something that I might have had to do if I killed the girl.

"You're already on probation," he reminded me. "You know who'll get blamed if anything happens."

Looking back on it, I wish I'd decked Nancy Bobofit right then and there. In-school suspension would've been nothing compared to the mess I was about to get myself into. It wasn't anything I couldn't handle of course, however I was somewhat put off at the fact I was relocating.

Mr. Brunner led the museum tour.

He rode up front in his wheelchair, guiding us through the big echoey galleries, past marble statues and glass cases full of really old black-and-orange pottery.

It blew my mind that this stuff had survived for two thousand, three thousand years.

He gathered us around a thirteen-foot-tall stone column with a big sphinx on the top, and started telling us how it was a grave marker, a stele, for a girl about our age. He told us about the carvings on the sides. I was trying to listen to what he had to say, because it was kind of interesting, but everybody around me was talking, and every time I told them to shut up, the other teacher chaperon, Mrs. Dodds, would give me the evil eye.

Mrs. Dodds was this little math teacher from Georgia who always wore a black leather jacket, even though she was fifty years old. She looked mean enough to ride a Harley right into your locker. She had come to Yancy halfway through the year, when our last math teacher had a nervous breakdown.

From her first day, Mrs. Dodds loved Nancy Bobofit and figured I was devil spawn. She would point her crooked finger at me and say, "Now, honey," real sweet, and I knew I was going to get after-school detention for a month.

I would have actually liked the Mrs. Dodds for her sense of style. Of course if it wasn't for the detentions and the fact I suspected her of being some sort of actual evil being. That's beside the point.

One time, after she'd made me erase answers out of old math workbooks until midnight, I told Grover I didn't think Mrs. Dodds was human. He looked at me, real serious, and said, "You're absolutely right."

Yet another thing that made me think Grover knew more than he let on.

Mr. Brunner kept talking about Greek funeral art.

Finally, Nancy Bobofit snickered something about the naked guy on the stele, and I turned around and said, "Will you shut up?"

It came out louder than I meant it to, I didn't care.

The whole group laughed. Mr. Brunner stopped his story.

"Mr. Jackson," he said, "did you have a comment?"

Turning to face him I said, "Why yes, I do. Nancy is being an immature brat and I want to listen to you and she won't shut up."

Mr. Brunner pointed to one of the pictures on the stele, not doing anything now but I could tell that he would talk to her later. "Perhaps you'll tell us what this picture represents?"

I looked at the carving, and felt a flush of relief, because I actually recognized it. It was one of the main things I studied as my 'training' "That's Kronos eating his kids, right?"

"Yes," Mr. Brunner said, obviously not satisfied. "And he did this because ..."

"Well..." I racked my brain to remember. "Kronos was Titan … And ... he didn't trust his kids, who were the gods. So, um, Kronos ate them, right? But his wife hid baby Zeus, and gave Kronos a rock to eat instead. And later, when Zeus grew up, he tricked his dad, Kronos, into barfing up his brothers and sisters-"

"Eeew!" said one of the girls behind me.

Whimps, couldn't take the real world if it bite their asses.

"-and so there was this big fight between the gods and the Titans," I continued, "and the gods won."

Some snickers from the group.

I almost wanted to as well, after all it was pretty funny that I summarized a battle like that into nothing but a few, short sentences.

Behind me, Nancy Bobofit mumbled to a friend, "Like we're going to use this in real life. Like it's going to say on our job applications, 'Please explain why Kronos ate his kids.'"

"And why, Mr. Jackson," Brunner said, "to paraphrase Miss Bobofit's excellent question, does this matter in real life?"

"Busted," Grover muttered.

"Shut up," Nancy hissed, her face even brighter red than her hair.

At least Nancy got packed, too. Mr. Brunner was the only one who ever caught her saying anything wrong. He had radar ears. Probably because he wasn't human, my thoughts screamed at me.

I thought about his question, and shrugged. "Because some day we are all going to find out that we are children of gods and we might need to know this sort of history to life."

I was of course serious, but I kept my tone sarcastic.

"Well, half credit, Mr. Jackson. Zeus did indeed feed Kronos a mixture of mustard and wine, which made him disgorge his other five children, who, of course, being immortal gods, had been living and growing up completely undigested in the Titan's stomach. The gods defeated their father, sliced him to pieces with his own scythe, and scattered his remains in Tartarus, the darkest part of the Underworld. On that happy note, it's time for lunch. Mrs. Dodds, would you lead us back outside?"

The class drifted off, the girls holding their stomachs, the guys pushing each other around and acting like doo-fuses.

Grover and I were about to follow when Mr. Brunner said, "Mr. Jackson."

I told Grover to keep going. Then I turned toward Mr. Brunner. "Sir?"

Mr. Brunner had this look that wouldn't let you go- intense brown eyes that could've been a thousand years old and had seen everything. Perhaps they had.

"You must learn the answer to my question," Mr. Brunner told me.

"About the Titans?"

"About real life. And how your studies apply to it."

"Oh." I almost smirked, I'd known what he was talking about. Apparently he bought the sarcasm act.

"What you learn from me," he said, "is vitally important. I expect you to treat it as such. I will accept only the best from you, Percy Jackson."

He told me to go outside and eat my lunch.

The class gathered on the front steps of the museum, where we could watch the foot traffic along Fifth Avenue.

Overhead, a huge storm was brewing, with clouds blacker than I'd ever seen over the city. I figured that my father must have been in some sort of argument with Zeus at the moment. There was horrible weather everywhere, lightening struck at random times. It all made me wonder just what they were up to, but at the same time something told me that I didn't really want to get involved with it. I kind of wanted to live, and being in between a few gods that wanted to duke it out would kind of counteract that.

Nobody else seemed to notice the weather. Some of the guys were pelting pigeons with Lunchables crackers. Nancy Bobofit was trying to pickpocket something from a lady's purse, and, of course, Mrs. Dodds wasn't seeing a thing.

Grover and I sat on the edge of the fountain, away from the others. We thought that maybe if we did that, everybody wouldn't know we were from that school-the school for loser freaks who couldn't make it elsewhere.

"Detention?" Grover asked.

"Nah," I said. "Not from Brunner."

Grover didn't say anything for a while. Then, when I thought he was going to give me some deep philosophical comment, he said, "Can I have your apple?"

I didn't have much of an appetite, so I let him take it. It was also something that gave me farther suspicions on what he might be, actually it made me sure. I just didn't want to say anything unless I knew what they were here for.

I watched the stream of cabs going down Fifth Avenue, and thought about my mom's apartment, only a little ways uptown from where we sat. I hadn't seen her since Christmas. I wanted so bad to jump in a taxi and head home. She'd hug me and be glad to see me, but she'd be disappointed, too. She'd send me right back to Yancy, remind me that I had to try harder, even if this was my sixth school in six years and I was probably going to be kicked out again. I wouldn't be able to stand that sad look she'd give me.

Mr. Brunner parked his wheelchair at the base of the handicapped ramp. He ate celery while he read a paperback novel. A red umbrella stuck up from the back of his chair, making it look like a motorized cafe table.

I was about to unwrap my sandwich when Nancy Bobofit appeared in front of me with her ugly friends-I guess she'd gotten tired of stealing from the tourists-and dumped her half-eaten lunch in Grover's lap.

"Oops." She grinned at me with her crooked teeth. Her freckles were orange, as if somebody had spray- painted her face with liquid Cheetos.

I tried to stay cool. The school counselor had told me a million times, "Count to ten, get control of your temper." But I was so mad my mind went blank. A wave roared in my ears. Knowing that I couldn't touch her directly I called on the water near us.

Nancy was sitting on her butt in the fountain, screaming, "Percy pushed me!"

Mrs. Dodds materialized next to us.

Some of the kids were whispering: "Did you see-"

"-the water-"

"-like it grabbed her-

Whelp, I'm in trouble again.

As soon as Mrs. Dodds was sure poor little Nancy was okay, promising to get her a new shirt at the museum gift shop, etc., etc., Mrs. Dodds turned on me. There was a triumphant fire in her eyes, as if I'd done something she'd been waiting for all semester. "Now, honey-"

It hit me that the woman/thing might have been waiting for me to use my power.

"I know," I grumbled. "A month erasing workbooks."

Maybe she would roll with it and I wouldn't end up in some life or death fight I'm sure was soon to happen otherwise. The hair on the back of my neck stood up as I ran a thumb across the ring on my finger.

That wasn't the right thing to say, and she certainly didn't go with it.

"Come with me," Mrs. Dodds said.

"Wait!" Grover yelped. "It was me. I pushed her."

Yeah, he was trying to protect me. That cemented the idea to me that I was going to trust him from now on. Mrs. Dodds scared Grover to death.

She glared at him so hard his whiskery chin trembled. I knew that I couldn't allow him to come with us at that. He might have wanted to protect me, but I didn't really think he had much means to do just that.

"I don't think so, Mr. Underwood," she said.

"But-"

"You-will-stay-here."

Grover looked at me desperately, trying to make him feel better, I winked. Perhaps he would think that I knew and that I had some sort of plan.

I mean I would have a plan if I knew just what the fuck she was.

"It's okay, man," I told him. "Thanks for trying."

"Honey," Mrs. Dodds barked at me. "Now."

Nancy Bobofit smirked, I just smirked back and gave her my deluxe I'll-kill-you-later stare. Then I turned to face Mrs. Dodds, but she wasn't there. She was standing at the museum entrance, way at the top of the steps, gesturing impatiently at me to come on.

How'd she get there so fast? A clue as to what she was. Fast…. I had no doubt then that it was something from the underworld, perhaps sent after me by Hades?

I was under the impression that no one knew about me, I mean the random monster might come but I usually killed it before it would figure out who I was. Now I wasn't too sure that I'd gone as good a job with that as I thought I did.

I went after Mrs. Dodds. My muscles were tight in preparation of just what was to come.

Halfway up the steps, I glanced back at Grover. He was looking pale, cutting his eyes between me and Mr. Brunner, like he wanted Mr. Brunner to notice what was going on, but Mr. Brunner was absorbed in his novel.

I looked back up. Mrs. Dodds had disappeared again. She was now inside the building, at the end of the entrance hall.

I followed her deeper into the museum. When I finally caught up to her, we were back in the Greek and Roman section. Oh wasn't that just dandy, the place to attack me would be around the priceless artifacts.

Except for us, the gallery was empty.

Mrs. Dodds stood with her arms crossed in front of a big marble frieze of the Greek gods. She was making this weird noise in her throat, like growling.

"You've been giving us problems, honey," she said.

I did the safe thing. I said, "Yes, ma'am."

Perhaps she would let out more information about just what she was on about, and maybe I could figure out why the gods were fighting even.

She tugged on the cuffs of her leather jacket. "Did you really think you would get away with it?"

The look in her eyes was beyond mad. It was evil.

I said with a cautious tone, "Get away with what exactly?."

Thunder shook the building.

"We are not fools, Percy Jackson," Mrs. Dodds said. "It was only a matter of time before we found you out. Confess, and you will suffer less pain."

I didn't know what she was talking about.

"Well?" she demanded.

"Ma'am, I don't..."

"Your time is up," she hissed.

Finally, action...

Her eyes began to glow like barbecue coals. Her fingers stretched, turning into talons. Her jacket melted into large, leathery wings. She wasn't human, why to state the obvious mind. She was a shriveled hag with bat wings and claws and a mouth full of yellow fangs, and she was about to slice me to ribbons.

Mr. Brunner, who'd been out in front of the museum a minute before, wheeled his chair into the doorway of the gallery, holding a pen in his hand.

"What ho, Percy!" he shouted, and tossed the pen through the air.

Mrs. Dodds lunged at me.

With narrowed eyes, I dodged and felt talons slash the air next to my ear. I snatched the ballpoint pen out of the air, but when it hit my hand, it wasn't a pen anymore. It was a sword-Mr. Brunner's bronze sword, which he always used on tournament day.

Maybe I was going to use my own weapons, but when the sword hit my hand something felt right about it. I'd wanted a sword that wasn't awkward for a long time, this was a wonderful opportunity.

Mrs. Dodds spun toward me with a murderous look in her eyes.

My muscles tensed again, ready to fight. I got into a combat stance and waited for her to make her move.

She snarled, "Die, honey!"

And she flew straight at me.

"Listen bitch don't call me honey, I'm not into that kind of shit." Okay, battle side manner was strong in me.

I swung the sword, just once.

The metal blade hit her shoulder and passed clean through her body as if she were made of water. Hisss!

…That bitch was weak.

Mrs. Dodds was a sand castle in a power fan. She exploded into yellow powder, vaporized on the spot, leaving nothing but the smell of sulfur and a dying screech and a chill of evil in the air, as if those two glowing red eyes were still watching me.

I was alone.

There was a ballpoint pen in my hand. Must have been it's alternate form. Somewhat like my ring and ear-ring were.

Mr. Brunner wasn't there. Nobody was there but me.

Was the man trying to get me to believe that it was the mist messing with me. I know what I saw he wasn't going to fuck with my mind like that. No matter how much he seemed to want me to think I was crazy.

I went back outside, placing the pen into my pocket. I had no intentions to give it back to the man. A few reasons being

1.) He wanted me to think I was crazy.

2.) It was a freaking good sword.

It had started to rain, I could feel myself gain power, balance, anything that came with water touching my body.

Grover was sitting by the fountain, a museum map tented over his head. Nancy Bobofit was still standing there, soaked from her swim in the fountain, grumbling to her ugly friends. When she saw me, she said, "I hope Mrs. Kerr whipped your butt."

I said, "Who?"

"Our teacher. Duh!"

I blinked. We had no teacher named Mrs. Kerr. I supposed that was what the mist was making them think. Ms. Kerr was a good choice, reasonably good name, same amount of letters and everything.

She just rolled her eyes and turned away.

I asked Grover where Mrs. Dodds was.

He said, "Who?"

But he paused first, and he wouldn't look at me, so I knew that he was with Mr. Banner in the whole, 'make Percy think he's crazy by pretending that the mist was affecting them.'

"Yes… I'm sure." I told him. "Next joke will be that you want to go gay for me."

Thunder boomed overhead.

I saw Mr. Brunner sitting under his red umbrella, reading his book, as if he'd never moved. He was much better than Grover was at this. In fact it gave me the strong impression that he had been doing this for a long time.

I went over to him.

He looked up, a little distracted. "Ah perhaps you could return the pen you borrowed from me Mr. Jackson."

I smirked at him somewhat, having absolutely no intention of giving it back.

"Sir," I said, "I never borrowed a pen from you, oh by the way! Do you know where Mrs. Dodds is?"

He stared at me blankly. "Who?"

He was very good, but I could see that he was startled by the fact that I wasn't giving him the pen back.

"The other chaperon. Mrs. Dodds. The pre-algebra teacher."

He frowned and sat forward, looking mildly concerned. "Percy, there is no Mrs. Dodds on this trip. As far as I know, there has never been a Mrs. Dodds at Yancy Academy. Are you feeling all right?"

Oh yes, I was feeling amazing. I got the feeling that things were going to be getting interesting. I also got the feeling it was about time to head home soon. Got to tell my mum everything that had been going on. Didn't want her to worry after all.

**End of Chapter One:**

**Author Note: Anyway yeah, let me know what you think, please review because it lets me know not only if you like or dislike it, but also what to change and if I should even continue a story. My other story will also be updated eventually, however I'm hoping for a few more reviews before I do. I still think I will contnue this one and the Harry Potter/Yugioh crossover.**

**Let me know what you think god damn you, REVIEW!**


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